


White Winter Hymnal

by Pennstram



Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Christmas Music, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, SPNAdventCalendar2020, brief minor sexual content, implied bottom!Cas/Top!Dean, implied canon typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennstram/pseuds/Pennstram
Summary: The peeling label had a small star on one side that looked vaguely familiar. “Dude, is this a tape of Christmas songs?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Endverse Dean Winchester
Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041642
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	White Winter Hymnal

**Author's Note:**

> These poor boys just want to be happy but I won't let them. Oops.  
> Day five: Carols

He’d found the tape at a ransacked discount store somewhere near Tulsa. At first Dean wasn’t sure what he was looking at when Cas handed him the small black plastic. But the peeling label had a small star on one side that looked vaguely familiar. “Dude, is this a tape of Christmas songs?” 

Cas seemed to smile brighter as he nodded quickly. Taking the tape back he looked at it almost reverently. “December is when you play them, isn’t it?” He questioned softly, thumb running over the edge of the label as he looked up at Dean. “Humor me? For old times sake, just this once?”

The hunter sighed but nodded nonetheless, a tentative smile pulling at his lips. “Fine, just this once.” The adoring look Cas shot him after that was enough to make Dean’s heart melt. He realized the second they were back on the road that he’d do almost anything to keep that look. To keep Cas looking at him like that forever. 

If it meant listening to ‘Silent Night’ at 4 in the afternoon down a deserted highway then so be it. Because in the passenger seat beside him, Cas had his eyes closed as he hummed along. Dean tried in vain to ignore it, but by the third song they were singing a duet to “All I want for Christmas”. 

He was grinning when their eyes met as Dean glanced over. Cas’s face was red, from the cold air coming in from the broken vents or a flush from something else Dean wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter either way, in that moment, he was beautiful. 

Reaching over Dean thread their fingers together on the seat and smiled when he felt Cas give him a small squeeze back. 

It became routine after that. Cold December days, meant cheesy Christmas music in the Impala. Dean drove, Cas sang along and they were happy. They picked up more tapes along the way. An acapella group Cas was fond of, that Dean secretly didn’t mind either. An instrumental group of rock music that demanded they turn the sound up as loud as possible. They were carefree and for once, unworried. 

Until they weren’t. 

Until the day the loud chords of ‘Carol of the Bells’ rang out through the snow blanketed world. It was a small, stupid mistake that Dean would continue to blame himself for. A rookie mistake they couldn’t afford to make, but did anyway. The sound carried, and brought back danger. 

The mob of Croats that attacked them seemed to come from nowhere. The second Dean saw them encroaching on the gas station they were pulled over at, he swore. “Cas—“ But Cas was already at his side, Angel blade in one hand, Dean’s knife in the other. 

It took an hour before they were peeling away down the road. Bruised and covered in blood that wasn’t theirs. Breath coming in short demanding pants. Silence stretched between them. Cas had moved to turn the tape back on but Dean’s hand on his stopped him short. 

Dean gave a curt jerk of his head when Cas looked over at him in question. His jaw was clenched and his eyes tight. Cas folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them with a frown. 

For the first time that month, they drove in silence. 

It was close to 1 AM when Dean finally spoke again. “That was stupid.” His tone was soft, but the way his words were clipped gave Cas pause. He made a questioning sound in his throat, not sure if he’d actually be able to get the words out. Dean didn’t seem to care either way. 

“We should have known better. We’re hunters for fucks sake.” Another noncommittal noise and Dean tightened his grip on the wheel. “We need to be more careful.” The way he said it, with such finality, such demand, Cas wondered if they were still talking about the music. 

It wasn’t the last run in they had with infected groups. Each time they scraped by. Each time they got away, with minor cuts and bruises but more often than not unharmed.

Then Cas got hurt. Bad. 

The gash on his side took a week before it started really healing. Dean blamed himself every time he changed the dressings. Every time Cas winched when he moved. Every time Last Christmas came on. 

He switched the tapes back to the very first. The one Cas had asked so nicely for. The one with all the religious sounding songs that were quiet and safe. 

“I’m sorry, Cas.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Cas whispered back, glancing up at Dean from his position curled between him and the backseat of the Impala. Dean’s mouth twitched at the corner but he said nothing else, merely tightened his grip on Cas’s arm. The soft sounds of O Holy Night echoed around them in the dark and Cas sighed. 

Leaning up he pressed his lips to Deans neck. Fingers digging into the warm skin of his belly was the only response from the hunter. It was timid and wrong and Cas hated it. “Dean…” Then green eyes were on him and Cas could practically taste the desperation in them. Could feel the tension crackle between them before Dean ever moved. 

Then their lips met and Dean was rolling them over to push Cas onto his back as he shoved their mouths together. Fingers dug into his side and at the nape of his neck and Cas breathed out a soft sigh into Dean’s mouth. 

It was frantic and uncoordinated and messy and neither of them cared. They were here. They were alive and together and that’s all that mattered.

If the only way to get that sense of safety meant Dean had Cas’s legs wrapped around his waist as the soft notes to White Winter Hymnal wrapped around them both? Then so be it. If the disenchanted words covered the stifled gasps and sobs, no one else would ever know.


End file.
